


Window Boy

by AnonymousAvocados



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: 1930s, Adult Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Adult Losers Club (IT), Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Male Character, Gay Stanley Uris, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, M/M, Movie: IT (2017), Movie: IT Chapter Two (2019), Other, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Smut, Stanley Uris Lives, Teenage Losers Club (IT), The Losers Club (IT) All Appear, boy this took a while to write, commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:00:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21537871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousAvocados/pseuds/AnonymousAvocados
Summary: Commission for my best friend, Katie (ily nh)!!Short reddie book that was originally a one-shot.It's the 1930s, and Richie Tozier is a navy boy who works hauling cargo at the shipyard by the bank. Eddie Kaspbrak is the banker's son who can't keep his eyes off of Richie, looking through the window of the bank. When they meet, Eddie refuses to give Richie his name until he "earns it." So Richie vows to earn the window boy's name, no matter what."Eddie could feel Richie's eyes burning holes in his back, but he didn't turn around, just tensed a bit. He wasn't sure why. He guessed he knew that if he turned and looked, he'd be met with chocolatey eyes and dark, playful curls and milky, clear skin and an award-winning smile with full, soft lips and a nose that was always a little pink and probably a teasing, 'like what you see, Kaspbrak?' and huge, dorky glasses that somehow brought out every feature spectacularly, pitting them against each other in wonderful juxtaposition.And Eddie didn't know if he could look at that without really,trulyfalling in love."
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough & Mike Hanlon & Ben Hanscom & Eddie Kaspbrak & Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Comments: 20
Kudos: 205





	Window Boy

**Author's Note:**

> 1930s au based on a post I saw by acrowandaboy on tumblr ("Oh, to be a handsome young navy man in 1930 with curly hair and dirt on my nose on my break from hauling cargo from the shipyard, reading a Little Blue Book titled Homosexual Life that I bought for 5¢, pretending not to notice the banker's son eyeing me in a truly sinful way."). Warning- it ain't realistic. There is one homophobic slur, but it isn't used as an insult. Also! Stay safe & DON'T share bodily fluids with your partner unless you know they're clean, unlike these dumbasses!! Sorry for any mistakes, this is my first time on AO3!
> 
> Enjoy!

Richie wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm, squinting at the bright sun. He exhaled heavily, letting his arm drop back down. He'd been hauling cargo for the past few hours down at the shipyard, and he was getting tired. Someone clapped a hand on his shoulder, and Richie looked up to see who it was.

"We're on break, kid." It was Richie's best friend, Bill. "Go sit in the shade for a while. I'm going to get a newspaper."

Richie smiled at his friend, nodding. "Alright."

Richie walked across the shipyard, picking up a little blue book that he'd laid down on a box earlier. He had purchased it a little while back for 5¢, and he'd been working on reading it during his breaks. He was literate, and very intelligent, but he was a slow reader, and he struggled sometimes with the convoluted words in his books.

The little blue book currently in his hands was titled _"Homosexual Life,"_ and it interested Richie greatly, for obvious reasons. He had been obsessing over it for days now. Almost as much as he'd been obsessing over something else, which was of the same nature, in a way.

Richie stepped into a shady area by the bakery, right across from the bank. Richie pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it with a match and putting it between his lips as he opened the book to his dog-eared page.

Richie read only a few words before looking up at the bank. It had been his main point of interest for over a week now, his chief obsession. Not because of the business itself, but because of the window boy.

The window boy would show up to look at Richie every day. Usually he would be talking to someone else or cleaning the windows or doing some other task, but he'd always work his way over to the glass and look out at Richie and smile. Richie would grin back and sometimes the boy would wink or blush. Richie thought he was cute. Someday, he'd like to talk to the boy. He wanted to know his name. Richie wanted to feel the soft curls that framed his freckled face so beautifully on his fingers.

But so far, they had only looked, only flirted with their eyes. The window boy had beautiful hazel eyes, wide and trusting. And golden skin that would probably be so soft and yielding under Richie's touch. It was his dream to speak to the boy, but it would be strange for a man like him to walk into the bank.

Richie bet that the window boy would be able to read the book he was holding with ease. He'd help him through it, gentle and intelligent. And then they would kiss under the light of the stars, hands roaming and hearts pounding.

Richie knew he wasn't supposed to be having these kinds of thoughts. He knew he should be interested in a nice girl, not the random boy in the window. But he'd stopped minding as soon as he'd seen him.

Sure enough, as Richie watched the window, the boy walked past, shooting a glance outside. He looked to be on his way out, and he slowed his pace for a second to smile at Richie once he spotted him. Richie pulled his cigarette away from his mouth, blowing the smoke out in the boy's direction. The boy grinned, stepping out of Richie's field of vision for a second to walk out of the bank.

He was dressed well, like something Richie would wear to church. Richie never really dressed well, usually just throwing on a dirty shirt and a pair of pants, sliding on his boots and cap, and calling it an outfit. But the window boy dressed all proper, shirt tucked into his trousers, a vest fitted to his torso. Richie would love to strip away all the layers he had on _(and fuck him into next week)_ , but now wasn't the time to think about that, because the window boy was _approaching him._

Richie was a jittery ball of nerves. He laid his book down, standing up and fixing his shirt absentmindedly as the window boy walked closer. _It was happening._ He would finally hear the boy's voice.

"Hello." The window boy said, stopping a little in front of Richie, hands clasped behind his back. He was several inches shorter than Richie was, looking up at him with rosy cheeks and soft hair and bright eyes.

His voice was _angelic_. It was sweet like honey, and so bright and friendly. The window boy looked even better up close. Richie could spot every freckle, every curve in his face, the soft dimples his gorgeous smile elicited. Richie's mouth fell open a little at the boy's beauty. He had never seen a man who was so _pretty_. He was everything Richie had imagined.

"Hello." He said back, clearing his throat as he stuck his cigarette back between his lips. The window boy's eyes flickered down to his mouth, watching the action. His face seemed to soften a little, as if his mind were drifting.

"What's a nice boy like you doing out here on such a fine day?" The window boy asked, gaze meandering back up Richie's face to his eyes. "It's hot out here."

"I'm working in the shipyard. Me and my pal Bill work together on it. We've been hauling cargo here for a while." Richie answered as he took the cigarette back in between his fingers, trying to keep his wild thoughts in check and in focus.

"Sounds like hard work." The boy smiled wider, standing up a bit higher, pleased. "You must be _strong,_ mister...?"

"Richie. I'm Richie. Tozier." Richie stammered, internally cursing himself for his awkwardness.

The window boy extended his hand. Richie almost felt nervous to take it. The boy's hand was so clean, whereas Richie had been sweating in the sun all day. But he reached out and shook the small hand anyway, loving how it fit perfectly in his, and the window boy didn't seem to mind. They held hands a second longer than they needed to.

"Nice to meet you." The window boy said in that same sweet, soft, low voice he'd been using. His eyes were hooded ever-so-slightly, his eyelashes casting delicate shadows onto the chocolatey spirals in his eyes.

"Nice to meet you, too. What's your name?" Richie asked as they released each other's hands. He was desperate to put a name to this pretty face.

The boy seemed to ponder it for a bit, his eyes wandering up towards the sky, his lips parting slightly in thought. His arm returned behind his back, which seemed to be his natural position. Richie had to keep himself from openly drooling.

"You haven't _earned_ it yet, Tozier." He said finally, grinning with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Richie suddenly felt rather competitive, determination gripping him. He grinned back at the boy. _So it's a game, then._

"I hope you'll change your mind in the coming days, beautiful." Richie replied, reveling in the way that the window boy's ears and cheeks flushed at the statement. Richie tapped the ash off of his cigarette, not minding that he was wasting it.

"We'll see." The boy bit his lip. "I'd better be off. It was a pleasure talking to you. I don't often get to see young men as handsome as you are. Despite you having dirt all over your nose." His eyes crinkled a bit as he grinned wider.

Richie quickly brought his shirt up to clean his nose off, and the window boy's eyes snapped to the sliver of skin that was exposed. Richie let the fabric fall back, seeing the boy very clearly staring at the place where his shirt had ridden up. The boy's eyes traveled the rest of the way down his body before returning to Richie's eyes, completely unashamed that he'd been caught. Richie smiled a bit, pink tinting his cheeks.

"I'll talk to you again tomorrow?" Richie phrased the statement more like a hopeful question.

"Yes, definitely. Goodbye, Richie." The window boy nodded his head slightly before walking away. Richie watched him leave, exhaling nervously.

He would find out that boy's name. He swore it.

~~~~~

Richie returned to the same spot the next day. It didn't take long before the window boy came out to talk to him again, and Richie was just as nervous as the first time.

"You decided to give me your name yet?" Richie spoke first as the boy stood in front of him, in the same upright, arms-behind-the-back posture he'd held yesterday. A smile tugged at the boy's lips.

"Why should I have? You haven't done anything to earn it." The window boy spoke, keeping his face straight. Richie huffed in annoyance.

"Are you busy?" Richie asked.

The boy thought about it for a bit. He seemed to think every decision over, weighing the options cautiously. He was tempted to tell Richie he was busy, to play hard-to-get even more, but he decided to take the opportunity Richie was offering while he could.

"I'm not busy. Why?" The boy answered, watching with his Bambi eyes as Richie stood up in front of him, a little too close.

"Come with me." Richie instructed, his dark eyes hooded ever-so-slightly as he turned to the side, beginning to walk down the street.

The window boy moved to keep up with him, his hands still clasped behind his back as he walked. Richie took shorter steps than usual, passively noticing their height difference.

The window boy _actively_ noticed their height difference, and he _loved_ it. He could see the muscles in Richie's arms, built up by the long days of hard work. Richie walked with confidence and swagger, so _nonchalant_ , a contrast to the boy's anxious little gait. The window boy was always a sucker for tall, strong, handsome, confident men. He wondered if it had always been his type, or if Richie had _made_ it his type.

"May I ask where you're taking me?" The window boy spoke as Richie wound through the streets.

"You may _not_." Richie replied, and a jolt of excitement shot down the boy's spine at the firm tone in his voice.

He smiled contently, trusting Richie. Sure, he was nervous. But he doubted that Richie would murder him, and honestly, he wouldn't mind being choked to death by those strong arms too much.

The pair finally arrived at their destination, a small, dirty alleyway, and for a second the window boy considered the possibility that Richie actually _was_ trying to kill him. But then Richie knocked on a small door embedded in the brick wall, looking over at the window boy and smiling at him as someone opened the door.

"Ah, Tozier! My man!" The door was flung wide open, almost hitting the window boy in the face, and he blinked, flinching back at the sudden motion. A tall, curly-haired man stood there. He looked to be roughly Richie's age, with brown eyes and golden locks, and he was grinning from ear to ear. "Come on in."

"Hey, Stan." Richie said, reaching over and grabbing the window boy's arm, pulling him to his side. The boy looked up nervously as Stan's eyes flickered down to him, and Stan raised his eyes at Richie.

"You brought someone?" Stan asked, and Richie nodded. He turned to address the window boy. "What's your name?"

The boy hesitated, eyes narrowing as he glanced at Richie. Richie laughed.

"He's not going to tell you. He doesn't want to tell me until I _'earn it.'_ " Richie explained.

" _Ah_." Stan nodded, smiling. "Well, come in, mysterious boy. Welcome to The Losers Club."

Richie cringed, moving his hand to Eddie's back and ushering him inside. "You don't have to say the name every time, Stan."

The Losers Club was... a _club_. A _secret gay club_. It was bathed in dim, orange light, and there were men _everywhere_. Draped over couches and chairs, chatting at the bar, standing by the small television set. Richie thought he could hear sinful noises coming from the bathrooms, and people were making out all around them.

The window boy took it all in with wide eyes, feeling incredibly out of place. Everyone here was older than him, taller, informally dressed. He stuck out like a sore thumb, and a few people were looking over at him, whispering to their friends.

"You look... clean." Stan said awkwardly to the window boy, and Richie slid his hand up to the boy's shoulder. The window boy loved his possessive contact, on his arm, his back, his shoulder, always keeping him close.

"Thank you." The window boy spoke with a slight intonation at the end, making it sound like more of a question.

"Hey, it's alright, darling." Richie said, noticing how nervous the boy seemed, and the boy looked up at him with rosy, freckled cheeks and innocent eyes. "Want a drink?"

The window boy nodded, and Richie led him to the bar as Stan took his place behind it, pouring out a couple glasses of alcohol, without even asking Richie what he wanted. Richie was a frequent visitor, and he had become close friends with Stanley Uris, the owner of the establishment. He was an odd fellow, but Richie loved him like a brother.

Richie downed some of the drink as the pair sat down at the bar. The window boy took a hesitant sip, grimacing at the taste, and Richie laughed quietly.

"Guess you don't come around places like this much, huh?" Richie asked, resting his cheek in his hand, elbow propped up on the counter, looking at the window boy.

"No." The boy answered, looking at his surroundings once more. "It's, ah... something."

"It sure is." Richie laughed, and the boy smiled a bit. "It's not as strange as it looks. Most guys here are fairly normal. Just, you know... a little funny."

That was what you were, if you weren't straight, and Richie and the window boy both knew it. No one said you were gay, and _no one_ said you were bisexual or queer or anything. You were just a little... _different_. A late bloomer.

"You're assuming I'm funny like that, too?" The window boy raised his eyebrows, expecting that Richie would be embarrassed, but he wasn't.

Instead, Richie maintained steady eye contact, looking at the window boy through his thick glasses, a smile creeping onto his face. "Yes, I am." Without looking away, he spoke again, "Stan, stop staring."

Stan turned away and cleared his throat, busying himself by cleaning the glasses behind the counter. The window boy raised his eyebrows even higher, blushing just a tiny bit.

"How do you know?" He asked.

"I can just tell." Richie shrugged, drinking the rest of the alcohol in front of him, tipping his head back to do so. The window boy watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed, and he blinked nervously. Richie put his head back down, placing the glass on the counter. "You look very fancy, all dressed up."

"Thank you." The window boy accepted the compliment humbly, staring at Richie's face. He was trying to read Richie's expression, but he _couldn't_.

"You're quite welcome." Richie replied easily. The window boy bravely took another sip of his drink, and Richie grinned at him. The incessant chatter in the background permeated the air around them, but the two were sealed off in their own little bubble. "Think I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You will." The window boy nodded. "Will we be returning here?"

"Probably not. Sorry, Stan. Quit eavesdropping." Richie said, not breaking eye contact with the window boy, and Stan cursed behind the counter.

The window boy laughed, and Richie's gaze softened at the gentle sound. "Pity. We should come back some time."

"We, uh, we should..." Richie trailed off, eyes flickering to the boy's lips. He shook himself internally, clearing his head. "Hey, think I deserve to know your name yet?"

"Not yet." The window boy shook his head, grinning. He paused, considering. "My surname."

"Your surname?" Richie asked expectantly, raising his eyebrows.

"Kaspbrak." The boy answered him, smiling shyly.

" _Kaspbrak_..." Richie repeated, loving how the word fell from his tongue. "It suits you, cutie." He winked.

The window boy- or Kaspbrak- hummed in response, smiling even wider. Richie sat up taller, and the boy watched him, eyes trailing over where his shirt clung to his chest.

"You'll have to meet my other pals sometime. I've got a few of 'em." Richie suggested, and Kaspbrak nodded.

"What are their names?" The window boy asked, and Richie shook his head with a grin.

"Ah-ah-ah. I'll tell you their _surnames_." He teased, and Kaspbrak huffed in annoyance, though he secretly loved Richie's challenging nature. They were evenly matched in their wit and sharp tongues. "Denbrough, Marsh, Hanscom, Hanlon."

"Which one is Bill?" Kaspbrak asked, grinning wide as Richie cursed.

"Denbrough. I forgot you already knew his name." He laughed. Richie looked at the boy with narrowed eyes, almost sly. "And you _remembered_."

"Of course." Kaspbrak nodded. "How could I forget?"

"It's sweet of you to remember his name." Richie said, feeling the effects of the alcohol start to kick in, his inhibitions slowly shedding. "So, Kaspbrak... what's it like in that stuffy bank all day?"

"Hm, pretty boring." The window boy shrugged, thinking the question over carefully. "I mostly just sit around and help out when I can. Cleaning, organizing, talking to customers. What about your job at the shipyard?"

Stan had always said that it was human nature to want to always talk about yourself; but the opposite was true for Richie and this Kaspbrak boy. They wanted to know everything they could about each other, and they couldn't care less about themselves.

"It's pretty straightforward. I carry boxes on, I carry boxes off, and I go on break for an hour or so in the afternoon. Then it's back to work until nightfall." Richie walked through his work day. He paused. "I'm leaving in a few days. I'm in the navy and whatnot."

"You are?" Kaspbrak asked, unable to hide the disappointment apparent in his voice.

"Yeah. But I shouldn't be gone for too long, maybe a month." Richie assured him quickly. He didn't want to see the window boy sad.

"Will you be fighting?" The boy asked anxiously, and Richie smiled lightly at his concern.

"No, I engineer stuff. Tinker around." Richie replied, and Kaspbrak seemed reassured. _So Richie was_ smart, _too_.

"That's good. I don't want you getting hurt." Kaspbrak turned towards the counter. He picked up his drink and downed the rest of it- which was the majority of it- in one gulp, setting the glass back down.

"You sure get attached quickly." Richie commented, eyes hooded as he looked at the boy. Kaspbrak turned back to him, pretty face flushed slightly. Richie's face was flushed, too, mostly because of the alcohol- he got tipsy fairly easily.

"Yes, well," Kaspbrak sighed, shrugging his shoulders and smiling at Richie. "We can't have handsome men like you going to waste, now, can we?"

"Handsome men." Richie echoed quietly, caught a little off guard by Eddie's comment. He regained his confidence fast, vowing to _never_ be as awkward as he'd been at their first meeting. Cool, collected, funny, that was the Richie that Richie wanted the window boy to see. "You're flirtatious, Kaspbrak."

"I am?" The boy asked coyly, his long eyelashes throwing shadows over the chocolate pools in his eyes.

"You are." Richie confirmed. He placed a hand on the boy's knee, sliding it up to his thigh, and Kaspbrak made the tiniest gasp. He was half-ready to go into those bathrooms right here, right now. But he didn't.

"Have some class. You don't even know my full name." Kaspbrak chided lightly, and Richie took his hand away, smiling.

"My apologies, good sir." He said in a ridiculously bad British accent, and the window boy giggled. "'S'pose my break is about up by now. Want to walk back with me?"

"Yes, please, Mr. Tozier." Kaspbrak smiled, hoping off of his barstool. Richie stood up beside him, rummaging in his pocket for a few coins, which he slid across the counter.

"I hope I'll be seeing you more." Stan spoke, throwing his towel over his shoulder as he leaned on the counter. "You two seem to be... getting on well. I do have to warn you, those bathrooms aren't-"

" _Quiet_ , Stanley." Richie interrupted, placing a firm hand on Kaspbrak's shoulder to guide him out of the building. "See ya."

"So long, Rich." Stan called out after him as the pair walked away. "Fuckin' fags." He muttered quietly, shaking his head with a grin.

Richie led the window boy back down the winding streets, making his way back to the bank. The pair stopped in front of the establishment, smiling brightly at one another. Eddie's whole face was flushed, and he would giggle at nearly anything Richie said; with his petite size and lack of regular alcohol consumption, the drink he'd taken had done a lot more to him than it had to Richie.

"Well, it looks like our time is up for today, Kaspbrak." Richie said, shoving his hands in his pockets. The window boy's eyes drifted to his arms hungrily, Richie's biceps more apparent with the new position.

"I suppose so." Kaspbrak agreed with a small nod, giggling a bit. _God_ , Richie loved that sound so damn much.

"I look forward to tomorrow. I'll have to think of another place to take you." Richie looked down at Kaspbrak dreamily, his gaze gentle and full of affection.

"One of these days, you'll have to kiss me." Kaspbrak suggested out of nowhere, and Richie couldn't hide his surprise at the boldness of the statement. He guessed it must be the strong substance they'd drank at The Losers Club talking, but he was not complaining. Kaspbrak laughed at his shocked expression, and Richie regained his composure.

"You haven't _earned_ it yet, Kaspbrak." He grinned, and the window boy scoffed in annoyance and disbelief. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon." 

"Goodbye, Richie." Kaspbrak said, almost shyly, breathily, his expression just as soft as Richie's had been moments earlier, his smile producing small dimples on his freckled face. He slipped into the bank, glancing out the window at Richie before returning to his father. 

"Fucking _cute_ kid." Richie murmured to himself. He shook his head to pull himself out of his trance, laughing lightly, and he headed back to the shipyard, where Bill was waving at him. 

There was only one clear thought circling through his brain for the rest of the day, one thought that bounced around in his head as he laid down on his bed at night, one thought that entered his mind as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning. 

_Kaspbrak, Kaspbrak, Kaspbrak._

~~~~~

Richie woke up with two days until he was leaving with Bill. Stupid deployment... why couldn't Richie just stay right here with the mysterious banker's son? 

Richie was almost finished with his _Homosexual Life_ book. He would read it while he waited for Kaspbrak. Richie had noticed that the past couple days- the days where the window boy had come out to talk to him- Kaspbrak had waited at the window before walking out. He would just stare at Richie for a while, and then he would come talk to him. Richie pretended not to notice it, but the way Kaspbrak had been eyeing him up was truly _sinful._

Richie looked up as the small _ding_ of the bank's door echoed from across the street, and he watched the window boy, dapper and neat and cautious as ever, walk over to him. 

"Hello, stranger." Kaspbrak said as Richie stood up in front of him, same as always. "Where will we be going today?" 

"Oh, around town." Richie shrugged, grinning, and the window boy smiled. "Follow me." 

Richie wrapped an arm around Kaspbrak's shoulders, keeping him close as they began walking. The boy was grinning like an idiot at the contact. Kaspbrak was touch-starved to the extreme; the way he had been raised had been so formal and proper and methodical, and there was no room for physical affection (or affection of any kind, really). 

Richie had grown up selling newspapers on the streets, and his fellow newsies were his family. They were all very affectionate and open and raucous, and Richie was the same way. It was how he'd first explored his sexuality, through these affectionate... friendly... close-quartered... _teenage boys_. Richie had been in heaven, truly. Boys _everywhere_. But it wasn't like there'd been, you know, a foursome with Richie and three of his closest friends or anything, nah... Aside from that, it was also how Richie was fluent in French and semi-fluent in Spanish and German. He didn't tell people about that, though. He considered it embarrassing, mostly because people tended to be impressed, and Richie was a master of deflecting compliments. 

Richie took Kaspbrak on a tour of the city that day. He knew many people, many shop owners and such, and he would stop by to say hello to each one. It was wondrous to Kaspbrak; he'd led an extremely sheltered life, and the city held so much he hadn't realized before. 

Finally, the two stepped up to an elegant, green door, and Richie knocked on it. He drummed his fingers on Kaspbrak's shoulder while they waited, and it sent tingles down the boy's spine. A few moments later, a fiery-haired girl opened the door, her blue eyes lighting up when she saw Richie. 

"Hey, Richie!" She grinned. The girl looked over at Eddie, just as Stan had the night before, with the same uncertain expression. 

"Hello, Ms. Marsh." Richie stepped forward with one leg and leaned down a bit, taking the girl's hand in his own and kissing it, his other hand sliding over to hold Kaspbrak's closest shoulder. 

"Who's this?" The girl asked without any hesitation as Richie stood back up to his full height. Kaspbrak was surprised at her _lack_ of surprise. If Richie had kissed his hand like that, he may have fainted. 

"This is mister Kaspbrak." Richie grinned, happy to be able to introduce the boy as more than just a boy. "I haven't earned his first name yet, apparently." 

" _Oh_ , you look so _gentlemanly_ , mister Kaspbrak." The girl smiled as she stepped outside, closing the door behind her, almost in a motherly way. Kaspbrak smiled back. The girl looked up at Richie, glaring. "I hope you aren't planning on taking this nice boy to The Losers Club." 

"Already did that yesterday." Richie shrugged, and the girl shook her head in disapproval. 

"Well, I'm Beverly Marsh. Pleased to meet you." Beverly introduced herself, and Richie cursed. 

"Damn it, Bev, you're ruining my master plan. I wasn't going to tell him your first name in the hopes that he'd tell me his." Richie lamented, and Kaspbrak giggled beside him. 

"I hope Richie isn't scaring you off too much." Beverly spoke to the boy, who shook his head, smiling softly. "Well, why are you two here?" 

"I thought perhaps you'd like to join us? We can go smoke by the dock." Richie suggested. "I'm trying to introduce all my friends to Kaspbrak here." 

Richie wanted Kaspbrak to know some of his friends, partially because he wanted to build a relationship with the boy (and thus his friends should know him), and partially because he was leaving the day after tomorrow and he didn't want Kaspbrak to be alone. Being in that bank all day, he probably didn't have many friends. 

"Sure." Beverly nodded, pushing past the two to step down onto the street. 

Richie grinned over at Kaspbrak, sliding his hand down to rest on the small of his back, and Kaspbrak's posture straightened considerably. The pair followed Beverly down. 

Suddenly, Beverly whirled around. "I'm curious, though, you look so familiar, mister Kaspbrak. I'd love to know your first name." 

Kaspbrak looked over at Richie. He smiled slyly, narrowing his eyes, and then he stepped towards Beverly, whispering something in her ear. 

_"Eddie."_

Richie's mouth fell open in disbelief. He was angry that he hadn't heard, and that he couldn't read Eddie's lips, because Eddie's hand was held up to cover them. 

"Oh, you're the banker's son! I _do_ know you." Beverly grinned, and Eddie nodded calmly. The two looked back at Richie and giggled. "Get over it, Tozier." Beverly said. 

"I'm _insulted_." Richie scoffed, walking up to the pair. He threw his arm over Eddie's shoulders again, but this time he physically _pulled_ him to his side, and the boy stumbled a little bit. "He'll tell you, but not me? _Unfair_ , Kaspbrak." 

"Beverly's earned it." Eddie shrugged, giggling a bit, his voice almost nervous. Because _holy shit_ , Richie was _strong_. 

" _How?_ Complimenting you? I've _been_ doing that." Richie replied desperately. He moved his arm to hold Eddie's hand as he quickly got down on one knee, and Eddie's eyes widened. Richie spoke in a clear, determined voice, as if reciting Shakespeare. "Mister Kaspbrak, you look _incredibly_ gentlemanly today." Richie held Eddie's hand in both of his own now, looking up at him with genuine, affectionate eyes through his dark curls. "No photograph could capture the essence of your _incomprehensible_ beauty in this soft, sunny glow. Please reveal to me your name, I _beg_ of you." 

Eddie's whole face flushed as Beverly laughed, and he was speechless as Richie got to his feet, dusting himself off. 

"So?" Richie asked expectantly, still holding Eddie's hand, raising his eyebrows. Eddie struggled to regain his composure. 

"Be patient, Mr. Tozier. You will find out at _some point_." Kaspbrak promised with a small smile, and Richie groaned in disappointment. 

"I got down on the _ground_ for you." He complained, and Eddie bit his lip as they began walking behind Beverly. 

"That was your choice, not mine." Eddie replied smugly. "I won't apologize for it." 

"What if I were to make you?" Richie asked, turning sly eyes upon Eddie. The boy blinked up at him, uncertain. 

"And how would you do that?" He said. 

" _Oh_ , darling," Richie breathed, and Eddie looked up towards Beverly nervously, praying she wouldn't hear their conversation. "There are a _thousand_ things I could do to you." 

"Do tell." Eddie pushed, speaking quietly. He wasn't sure why he was asking- maybe he wanted to make Richie flustered for a change, maybe the possibilities excited him, maybe he was just innocently curious. 

"Well, for example," Richie's face was passionate and expressive as he spoke, as was his voice, narrating the tale. "Have you ever been on the very _brink_ of heaven... only to have it _wrenched_ from your grasp?" Richie made dark, intense eye contact with the boy next to him. " _Over_ and _over_ and _over_ again?" 

Eddie felt something flutter in his stomach at the words, as if his body knew what Richie was implying even if his head didn't. He opened his mouth to ask the tall boy what he had meant, but he was interrupted before he could say anything. 

"The dock is just ahead on the right, boys." Beverly announced. "Keep up." 

"Yes, ma'am." Richie replied brightly, casting one last glance at Eddie before speeding up to walk beside Beverly. The window boy walked slowly in shock for a second or two, and then he also sped up to join the group. 

The three arrived at the dock, a small, wooden platform looking over the bay. Richie and Beverly moved to sit at the end of it, having done this a thousand times, and Eddie followed suit. Except Beverly made the fatal mistake of sitting _in between Richie and Eddie_. Being Richie's friend, she should've known about his wandering hands by now, but for whatever reason she didn't think about it. 

Beverly pulled out a pack of cigarettes (she always had them on hand). "Want a smoke, Kaspbrak?" 

"Um..." Eddie hesitated, unsure. 

"He's probably never done it before. Have you?" Richie asked, leaning forward to look at the boy past Beverly's torso. There was a just a hint of mirth behind Richie's voice, and Eddie recognized it; it told him Richie was teasing him. 

"No." Eddie decided to tell the truth, eyes fiery and stubborn as he gazed at Richie. It was better than spinning an obvious lie. 

"Well, Kaspbrak, I'm honored to be present for your... _first time_." Richie cocked an eyebrow suggestively, almost leaning into Beverly's body in a subconscious attempt to get closer to Eddie. "You know, I-"

Richie was cut off when Beverly shoved a cigarette into his mouth, then placed her hand on his forehead and pushed, hard, so that Richie was sent falling sideways. 

"Stay out of my personal space, Tozier." Beverly warned, though it really was her own fault. 

Richie sat up straight again (well, not straight, as he had the poorest posture Eddie had ever seen), taking the cigarette out of his mouth and spitting into the water below him. "I fucking _bit_ that." 

Eddie snickered a little, earning an eye-roll from Richie. Beverly put a cigarette between her own lips, then offered one to Eddie, who took it silently, placing it in his mouth the way the other two had. Beverly lit Richie's cigarette, then her own. She moved to light Eddie's, but Richie stopped her. 

"Hold on, sweetheart." Richie said, blowing a ring of smoke into her face. Beverly glared at him, blowing smoke right back. They both coughed and laughed a little as the air cleared. 

Eddie would never admit it, never in a million years, but seeing them laugh together, and _especially_ seeing Richie call Beverly "sweetheart" pulled at his chest in a _very_ displeasing way. He'd never really felt envy before. Now he did. 

But it was quickly dismissed as Richie turned his attention back to him, making the "come here" gesture with his first two fingers. "Lean in, Kaspbrak. _I'll_ light you." 

Eddie leaned forward hesitantly, cigarette still between his lips. He glanced up at Beverly briefly, who was leaning backwards (he was now at eye-level with her chest, and Beverly did _not_ approve of the two leaning in front of her like this). 

Richie stuck his cigarette back in his mouth and leaned in to meet Eddie. The window boy watched with wide eyes, heart rate jumping, as Richie looked down at his lips, carefully lining the tip of his lit cigarette up with Eddie's unlit one, pressing them together. There was a faint sizzling sound as Eddie's cigarette caught fire, but Eddie thought the _real_ fire was in Richie's hooded, dilated eyes, which flickered back up to meet his. Eddie felt like he might pass out. 

And then Beverly wedged her hand in between them, pushing Richie back unceremoniously. "Your face is too close to me. What did I _just_ say about that?" Her voice took on an almost motherly tone as she spoke. 

"Ah, you know I only have eyes for one at a time." Richie said, winking at Eddie. "Hate to break it to you, Bev, but it's not you." 

Eddie pulled his cigarette away from his lips, coughing as he exhaled- a lot. And not just because of the smoking itself. Mostly because _what the fuck had Richie meant?_ He was a puzzle to Eddie, and every time the boy thought he had Richie pinned, a new missing piece would be revealed. 

Beverly laughed. "How's that cigarette, E- uh, Kaspbrak?" The grin disappeared from her face at her slip-up, replaced by sinking realization. Richie Tozier was going to be an _asshole_ about this, she knew it. 

There was a beat of silence, with Eddie looking nervously into Beverly's eyes, and then Richie spoke. 

" _Ehhhh?_ " He drew out the sound Beverly had accidentally spoken, voice full of what Eddie could only categorize as glee. "Eh? Eh _what?_ Your name starts with an 'E?'" He addressed Eddie, a grin plastered to his face, eyes twinkling. Eddie could hear the evil laugh that was definitely playing in Richie's head. 

Beverly took a breath. "I'm so sorry. He's never going to let this go." 

"It's okay, you didn't mean it." Eddie smiled, though his heart was pounding. He stuck his cigarette back in his mouth, attempting to inhale properly this time. 

"Evan? Elliot? Edwin? Eric?" Richie threw out names in rapid succession. 

"None of those." Eddie shook his head, narrowing his eyes. "Quit guessing, you're freaking me out." 

"What about Earl? Edmund? Ernest?" Richie ignored him. "Come on, E, give me _something. Essss_ -meralda?" He joked, stretching out the "s" obnoxiously. Eddie rolled his eyes. 

"Shut up, Tozier." Beverly plucked Richie's cigarette from his fingers and tossed it into the water. Richie watched its descent sadly. He looked back up at Beverly, glaring. 

"That was your own money. Wasted. Give me another." He demanded, but Beverly shook her head. Richie gave a heavy sigh, and then he laid down on the dock. "Fuck you, Beverly Marsh." 

Richie looked up at Eddie, wondering about his name. His posture was straight as ever, and Richie could see him getting the hang of cigarettes, smiling over at Beverly before looking back at the sky. Richie admired his figure, the way his hair gently curled at the nape of his neck, the way he sat with his knees pressed together, the way he breathed calmly and slowly. Richie felt his own breathing sync up with the window boy's. It was peaceful, elysian. 

Eddie could feel Richie's eyes burning holes in his back, but he didn't turn around, just tensed a bit. He wasn't sure why. He guessed he knew that if he turned and looked, he'd be met with chocolatey eyes and dark, playful curls and milky, clear skin and an award-winning smile with full, soft lips and a nose that was always a little pink and probably a teasing, "like what you see, Kaspbrak?" and huge, dorky glasses that somehow brought out every feature spectacularly, pitting them against each other in wonderful juxtaposition. 

And Eddie didn't know if he could look at that without really, _truly_ falling in love. 

~~~~~

Richie was leaving tomorrow. 

As soon as he woke up, anxiety gripped him. It was finally sinking in that he would be gone for weeks, and that though he wouldn't be fighting, he could still potentially die. He could still potentially die without ever confessing his feelings to Kaspbrak, without ever kissing him, without ever even learning his name. 

"Bill." Richie had whispered into the darkness. 

"Yeah?" 

"Couldn't sleep?" Richie had asked, surprised Bill was awake. 

There had been a heavy sigh. "No." 

"Me, neither." Richie had agreed. "I don't want to leave. I feel like... there's something I've got to do, Bill. I've got to, you know... tell someone something." 

"Me, too." Bill had agreed, and Richie had gotten the sense that Bill really did know what he was talking about. 

That was why Richie didn't wait until his afternoon break. He started work around ten in the morning, so Richie walked out to the shipyard promptly at nine. An hour was plenty of time to say a few words. 

Right? 

Richie stilled himself for a second, balling his hands into fists at his sides, before walking into the bank. It was the first bank Richie had ever been in. He looked around the place, which had just opened an hour ago, eyes coming to rest upon a stern-looking man at what looked to be some sort of reception desk. It was a fairly small bank, family-owned, and that was about the extent of Richie's knowledge on it. 

"Hello... sir." The man greeted him in a cold voice, sweeping his eyes over Richie's slightly haggard form in his hesitation. 

But Richie remained bright and happy, completely unfazed by rude behavior at this point in his life. "Hello! I believe there's a boy who works here. Is he around?" 

"You mean my son." The man- Kaspbrak's father, apparently- said. "Yes, I'll fetch him." 

"Thank you." Richie chirped, resisting the engrained habit of winking. Richie was surprised that Kaspbrak's father hadn't put up more of a fight, as he clearly wasn't keen on Richie. 

Kaspbrak's father walked through a doorway and disappeared around the corner. A few moments later, Kaspbrak walked out and took his place, eyeing Richie rather suspiciously. 

"What are you doing here?" Eddie said finally. 

"Could I get a tour of the bank, maybe?" Richie asked, and Eddie knew he really meant "could we go somewhere private?" 

"Of course. I'll show you around." Eddie replied, unable to hide the small smile on his face. 

"Oh, how kind of you." Richie grinned. Eddie stepped out from behind the desk, gesturing for Richie to follow him as he walked through the doorway his father had gone through. 

Richie felt his nerves start to flare up. He was rarely nervous, because he was rarely out of control; he knew the whole city, and never felt out of place. But here, in a fancy bank, he _did_ feel out of place and he _was_ out of control. And he _was_ nervous. 

"Do you want to go down to the vaults?" Eddie broke Richie's train of thought, pulling him back to reality. 

"What's in the vaults?" Richie asked him. 

"The absence of other people." Eddie answered, smiling a little wider as he continued walking down a short series of winding hallways. 

"To the vaults, then." Richie agreed, smiling wider himself. 

Eddie turned a corner to reveal a staircase leading down into what was presumably the vaults. He flashed a quick smile at Richie before beginning to descend the stairs. Richie took a breath, and then he followed him down. 

Eddie flicked on the lights. They were standing in a big, open room lined with rows and rows of what looked like file cabinets. 

"We _call_ this the vaults, but it's not where we actually keep the money. My father won't let me go in there." Eddie explained the lack of security. "These are just people's files." 

"Huh." Richie nodded, looking around the brick-walled room. 

"So, why did you _really_ come here?" Eddie asked, and Richie's eyes snapped to him for a second before looking away again, still scanning the room. It was easier to talk about important things with someone if you weren't looking at them. 

"I'm leaving tomorrow." Richie answered. 

Silence. 

"That soon?" 

Richie felt Eddie's gentle hands sliding around his elbow, holding his arm, and he looked over at the boy. Eddie was looking up at him with wide, sad eyes. Richie felt awful. 

"Yeah. Tomorrow morning." He confirmed. "I wanted to make the most of the time we've got, so I didn't wait for the afternoon." 

"Oh." Eddie gave a little sigh. His hands were still around Richie's arm, making the whole limb tingle warmly. 

"Yeah." Richie said again, numbly. "I-" He began, but his throat closed up on him. He was too nervous to say it, and he cursed himself for his hesitation, but he couldn't get the words out of his mouth. They just wouldn't come. 

"I like you a lot, Richie." Eddie broke the silence yet again, resting his head on Richie's arm a little below his shoulder. "A _lot_. I'm going to miss you a lot, too." 

Richie's brain was screaming at him. _How much is a lot? How much is a lot? How much is a fucking lot?!_

Instead of asking, Richie reached his hand around to Eddie's face and brushed his chocolate hair back, and it was everything Richie had imagined- soft, with little resistance, allowing his fingers to just glide through. 

"I'm going to miss you, too." He said quietly. He felt Eddie smile against his arm. 

The window boy pulled away, standing up straight again, though he didn't take his hands off of Richie's arm. Instead, he moved them up a little bit, curiosity glinting in his eyes. Richie watched with a puzzled expression on his face. 

"You feel... _really_ strong." Eddie said dumbly. He _felt_ dumb, like his brain was malfunctioning. Mostly because of the sad news he was processing, but also because the muscles he felt under Richie's shirt told him that Richie could pick him up like it was _nothing_. He didn't really know it yet, but Eddie was a sucker for being manhandled. 

Richie laughed a little. "I hope so. I've been working every day, I'd better have some muscle." 

Eddie let his hands fall, tucking them behind his back with a smile. "You do." Eddie turned away from Richie, maintaining eye contact for as long as it was comfortable to do so. He began walking around the room, and Richie followed him. "So you just came to tell me you were leaving tomorrow?" 

"No. No, that's not it." Richie shook his head instantly at the question. That wasn't why he was here at all. 

"Then what else did you want to do?" Eddie asked. 

_Just tell him. Just tell him, Richie, just say it_ , Richie thought. _It shouldn't be this difficult_. 

"Fuck your mom." _Shit_. 

"Uh-huh." Eddie rolled his eyes. _Shit, shit, shit_. 

"I'm sorry. That's... _obviously_ not it. I just..." Richie exhaled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked behind the boy. 

Eddie turned around, stopping to look into Richie's eyes. He brought his hands out from behind his back, slowly moving them up to rest on either side of Richie's face. 

"You're _nervous._ " He said softly. He was trying to calm Richie down, but the close contact was only making the taller boy's heart hammer away faster. 

Richie swallowed. "Sure." 

Eddie smiled wide. Richie was never nervous, it was always the other way around, and Eddie almost felt a sense of _triumph_ at the flip in their dynamic. 

"Cute." Eddie patted one side of Richie's face lightly, and then his hands were disappearing back behind his back, and Richie was sorely missing his touch. 

Eddie started to walk away again, but he stopped short as an arm shot out in front of him and blocked his path, the hand attached to it hitting the wall with a dull _thud_. Kaspbrak turned a little, heart pounding, and looked up at Richie with wide eyes, who was standing _very_ close to him, effectively trapping him against the wall. Eddie let out a nervous sort of exhale. Richie's eyes were dark and wanting. 

_Just fucking do it_ , Richie thought, and then he did. 

Richie surged forward and kissed Eddie. It was quick, firm, sudden, and he probably should've taken it slower, but Richie was anxious out of his mind, not thinking straight in any sense of the phrase. Eddie's lips were soft and yielding, especially compared to Richie's own chapped ones. He pulled away to gauge the boy's reaction. 

Eddie's knees felt weak as he leaned back against the wall, an expression of dreamy surprise fixed to his flushed face. Finally, he smiled, beautiful and cautious and shy. Richie's breath hitched at the sight. The window boy's eyes flickered down to Richie's lips, and he slowly moved his hands up to hold Richie's face for the second time that day. 

Richie leaned in again, slow this time. His lips barely brushed against Eddie's, and then Eddie was the one leaning forward to initiate it fully. Richie reciprocated happily, leading the kiss (as Eddie had never kissed anyone else before). This one was gentle and sweet, so sweet that Richie could almost swear he tasted candy on Eddie's lips. Richie let his hands gravitate down to hold Eddie's hips, subconsciously moving in closer. 

He pulled away after a few glorious moments. Eddie moved his hands down to Richie's shoulders. Richie felt shaky and jittery, like all of the tension in his body had exited him at once, and now he was just a formless blob standing in front of an _angel_ of a boy. 

"I like you." Richie said, his voice a little rough from the nervousness still buzzing in his body. "I want to be your boyfriend." 

Eddie licked his lips, savoring the minty taste of Richie Tozier. He smiled again in that same shy way, still feeling like all his bones had turned to jelly. "Okay." 

" _Okay?_ " Richie let out a shaky breath. 

"Yes. Did you think I'd say no?" Kaspbrak giggled a bit at Richie's shocked face. 

"No, but I didn't think you'd say yes." Richie replied, a grin making its way onto his face. It was true- he hadn't imagined this, hadn't planned it at all, hadn't formed expectations. It was impulsive and last minute- and that kind of thing usually tended to work out for him. 

"Well, I did." Eddie confirmed, raising his eyebrows. His hands moved again, down on top of Richie's, sliding them off of his hips so that he could hold them in his own. 

"Good." Richie breathed. 

It was. It was _really_ good. 

~~~~~

"Hello, Stanley." 

"Richard." Stan greeted his friend in the same, mock-formal air that Richie's voice held. He looked down to where Richie was holding Eddie's hand. "I assume something happened? Are you two...?" 

"Together? Yes." Richie answered. Eddie beamed. They both felt giddy speaking and hearing the words. 

Stan made throwing-up sounds. Richie looked over at Eddie. 

"He's just jealous." He said. 

"As ever." Stan nodded. There was a pause, then Richie spoke. 

"You're not open right now, are you?" 

First, they collected Stan. The three walked together to Beverly's house and picked up her and Ben (who was her boyfriend, but they never talked about it). They stopped by the library, where Mike and Bill were chatting. Then, all seven friends headed down to the dock. Eddie let his hands hang by his sides on the way (though sometimes one of them was occupied by Richie's), not once tucking them behind his back. 

Eddie had only met Stan and Beverly so far, and he'd seen Bill a few times at the shipyard, but he'd never been introduced. He was nervous- he had next to no social experience- but not too nervous; these were Richie's friends, and Richie was there with him, and anything relating to Richie was okay with Eddie. 

Everyone went around and introduced themselves, sitting in a circle by the water. Richie seemed to have forgotten his "last names only" plan. He seemed to have forgotten a lot of things, like how to talk properly. But it wasn't his fault- there was a buzzing warmth consuming him as he held Eddie's hand. His mind felt dumb and so very gay, and the gears were having trouble turning. He'd never felt this way before. Richie was woefully unprepared for the mental trainwreck that new love was. 

"So you won't say what your name is?" Mike asked, knees pulled up to his chest as he smiled at Eddie. Mike's smiles were the best- warm and gentle and kind. 

"No." Eddie confirmed. 

"It starts with an 'E.' That's all I know. And I wasn't supposed to know that." Richie added. 

"But you're leaving tomorrow morning." Stan said, and the group went silent for a bit. Eddie felt guilt shoot through him, but then Richie spoke. 

"Yeah, he'll tell me when he wants to. This might ruin my bad boy reputation, but-" Richie changed his voice to a sort of stage-whisper. "-I actually care about how he feels more than how much I want to know what his name is." 

Eddie smiled, pushing Richie's shoulder. "You're so dumb." 

"It's so weird to see you dating someone, Richie." Beverly sighed, legs kept close together due to her skirt. "I don't think I've ever seen you _like_ someone like this, you know?" 

"Oh, Tozier's soft!" Bill teased, laughing. The rest of the group giggled. 

"Am not." Richie scoffed, but he couldn't help the blush spreading across his face. 

Eddie didn't think Richie was soft. Richie was strong and tough. Not _all_ of the bad boy stuff was a lie. But Richie could be sweet, too. And was being soft really such a bad thing? Eddie was soft as hell. It was why Richie liked him so much; and if Richie liked it, it couldn't be that terrible. 

"Hey, you're all gonna take good care of him when I leave, right?" Richie asked, bringing Eddie back into reality. 

"Of course." Ben assured him. "He can come hang out with me and Mike at the library." 

"Mike and me." Stan corrected, and Ben laughed lightly, shaking his head. 

"Once Richie's gone, you can tell everyone your name." Beverly grinned at Eddie, who smiled back. "And then when he gets back, he'll be the only one who doesn't know." 

"Hey!" Richie protested, and the group giggled at him. "I get it, trash the Trashmouth. Ha-ha." 

"You haven't earned it yet." Eddie shrugged, and Richie groaned loudly, titling his head back. 

"What must I do, E? Let me know and I'll do it." Richie pleaded, staring up at the fluffy clouds in the sky. He really would do anything for Kaspbrak. "I just want to know." 

"You'll learn eventually. Stop complaining and maybe it'll be sooner." Eddie sniffed proudly, adopting the tone of his father. 

"Alright, fine." Richie sighed, tilting his head back down. He moved forward so that he was lying down on his stomach, facing the inside of the circle. "Bev, you got a cig?" 

Of course, she did, and she passed them around to the group. Eddie and Ben accepted theirs with some hesitance, being the only members of the group who didn't smoke regularly. Eddie's mother always said that smoking was too dirty, despite his father smoking often. But she never really disagreed openly with Eddie's father; not many people did. He was too powerful, held too much influence. Eddie had some big shoes to fill, which was unfortunate, because he looked and felt much too tiny. 

Beverly lit her own cigarette, then Ben's (as he sat beside her), and Ben used his to light Mike's, Mike used his to light Bill's, and so on. The last person in line was Eddie, who sat next to Richie. The group was absorbed in a conversation about various brands of cigarettes as Richie looked over at him. 

Eddie blinked down at the man, then smiled innocently, placing the cigarette delicately between his equally delicate lips. "Light me up?" He suggested, voice quiet but confident. 

"I'll light you up everywhere, babe." Richie replied instantly, grinning around the cigarette in his own mouth as he sat up on his knees, facing Eddie. 

Richie leaned forward, sliding his hand onto Eddie's cheek, fingers resting in his hair. Richie held his cigarette in between the fingers of his other hand to keep it steady, and Eddie did the same with his. Richie pressed the tip of his cigarette to the tip of Eddie's, just like the last time, and his eyes flickered up to meet the smaller boy's, just like last time. But it was different now, better. 

And then Richie pulled back, inhaling the smoke of his cigarette, and Eddie felt like Richie really had lit him up everywhere. 

He always had. 

~~~~~

"How the hell did you know this was my room?" 

Eddie spoke loudly- but not too loudly- to the man on the ground below him. He was leaning out of his bedroom window, which Richie had successfully thrown a few pebbles at (it had taken him more tries than he'd like to admit). Richie was standing in the street, smiling up at Eddie. 

"I saw you walk out of there when I'd just gone on break. So I assumed it was your room. I guess I was right." Richie replied, his volume a little louder than Eddie's, as it always was. 

The sun hadn't risen yet. Eddie had already been awake, getting dressed for the day (he was always up before the sun was). Richie was never up that early- in fact, he was frequently late to work because of his habit of sleeping in. 

"It's only five-thirty in the morning. What are you doing?" Eddie asked, voice growing more and more incredulous. He wasn't angry, just bewildered. 

"So I'm not allowed to go all Romeo on you?" Richie asked. He could see even from down on the ground that Eddie was glaring. "Okay, okay. I just wanted to say goodbye. I'm leaving around seven. Me and Bill are already up, wandering around town. So, I wanted to come here." Richie shrugged, cheeks heating up a little at the emotional confession. 

Eddie paused for a second, complex feelings swirling in his tired head. He shook that head, smiling a little. "Let me get dressed." 

"Well, you don't have to do that." Richie joked, but Eddie cut him off by closing his bedroom window and drawing the blinds. Richie clicked his tongue in disappointment. 

Eddie emerged from the entrance of the bank a couple of minutes later, wincing at the creak the door made. He was fully dressed, including the tie and vest and suspenders, but he looked messy; his clothes and hair were disheveled, his cheeks flushed. His shirt was partially untucked, and his tie wasn't done up all the way, the first couple of buttons on his shirt hanging open. But it made him look all the more beautiful. Richie inhaled as he looked the boy over. God, he was going to miss him. 

"What?" Eddie snapped him out of his daydream-y state, looking confused and a little annoyed. 

"Sorry. It's just... strange to see you like this." Richie waved his hand to dismiss the idea, not wanting to admit that so many fantasies of his had started with Kaspbrak looking exactly like this. "Do you need to, like, be in the bank this morning?" 

"Yes." Eddie answered, not breaking eye contact with Richie. Never breaking eye contact. "But I'm not going to." 

Richie flashed his crooked smile. "Rebellious." 

Eddie smiled back, carefully tucking the rest of his shirt into his pants. Richie's eyes followed the motion dedicatedly. Eddie pretended not to notice. 

"All thanks to you." 

"I've got a place for us to go, if you want to come with me?" Richie offered, extending his hand towards Eddie, who accepted it, nodding. He'd follow Richie anywhere. 

Eddie was surprised that Richie hadn't immediately asked about his name. He was going to tell him today, right before Richie left. That had been his plan all along. Richie couldn't have "earned" it, because Eddie had already set a predetermined path. And Richie probably knew that, deep down; but it was fun to play dumb, to go out of his way and do things for Kaspbrak, with the excuse of wanting his name. 

It took about thirty minutes to get there, but neither man minded, chatting innocently on the way, never letting go of the other's hand. Richie led Eddie out of the city entirely, down to a small, secluded lake. 

"What is this place?" Eddie asked as the two stepped onto the rickety dock overlooking the water. He guessed Richie must like water, or docks. 

"It's where I go to think." Richie answered, sitting down at the end of the dock. Eddie looked at the quiet, peaceful surroundings, littered with full, green trees. 

"Do the others know about it?" Eddie asked. 

"No one does. Except you." Richie looked back, smiling at the window boy. Eddie smiled back, expression shy and beautiful. 

Eddie walked cautiously over the wood, which creaked under his weight (that was alarming, as he weighed practically nothing), sitting down behind Richie, criss-cross. Richie laid back, resting his head in Eddie's lap. Eddie took his cap off for him, laying it on the dock beside them as he tangled his fingers in Richie's hair. Richie closed his eyes, allowing himself to slip into that peaceful place that the window boy always brought him to. 

"You're really handsome, Richie." Eddie murmured, barely audible; but Richie heard it, and his eyes shot open, quickly finding Eddie's. Eddie's hands had stilled in their movements, now just holding either side of Richie's head, fingers resting by Richie's jaw. 

"Oh, I mean, I-" Richie stammered, attempting to come up with a joke or a way to flip the compliment back on Kaspbrak. Eddie cut him off, leaning down and connecting their lips in a sweet- if a little awkward- kiss. The position was strange, but Eddie could kiss Richie in the worst way possible and it would still be the best feeling possible to Richie. 

Eddie pulled away an inch or two, and Richie could only see Eddie's neck when he opened his eyes. The window boy exhaled shakily, and Richie felt a drop of something wet fall onto his jaw, and he realized that Eddie was crying. 

Richie slid forward, away from Eddie's grip, and the latter sat up to allow Richie full mobility. Richie sat up as well, on his knees, then spun around to face Eddie, who was quickly wiping his eyes. 

"Hey, hey, why are you crying?" Richie asked, his tone of voice completely new; gentle, concerned. Eddie had never heard him talk like that before. It only made him want to cry more. 

"I just don't want you to leave." He sniffed. "You're so perfect, and..." Eddie put a hand over his heart, inhaling shakily, fisting the fabric of his shirt. "It _hurts_." 

It did hurt. His chest physically ached. He was so terrified to let Richie go. He wasn't stupid, he'd heard the stories- people coming back not the same or not at all. 

"Oh." Richie said dumbly. He didn't know what to do except hold Kaspbrak's hand, which was what he did now. 

"I'm just scared I won't see you again." Eddie continued, finally looking into Richie's eyes, magnified behind his glasses. "I know it's stupid, but I-"

"It's not stupid, don't say that." Richie interrupted, speaking quickly. Eddie stared at him with those wide eyes, looking almost fearful, uncertain. "It's not stupid to cry. I'll let you in on a secret-" Richie leaned in a little closer, dropping his voice, smiling softly. "I cried this morning before I came to get you. Believe it or not, I'm not as tough as I look. I don't want to leave, either." 

It was true. Richie had sat in his bed and wept for probably ten minutes or so before he sucked it up and got dressed for the day. He didn't think he'd ever tell Kaspbrak that, but here he was. 

"Really?" Eddie breathed. He was hanging onto Richie's every word. It made Richie a little anxious to see how anxious Kaspbrak's eyes were, waiting for him to reply. 

"I wouldn't lie to you." Richie shrugged. There was a beat of silence. "I have something for you." 

"What?" Eddie asked. There were still a few tears leaking slowly from his eyes, but he wasn't actively crying or sobbing. 

Richie reached under his shirt (and for a second Eddie grew very confused) and produced a little blue book, which had been held in the waistband of his pants. He handed it to Eddie. 

"I thought you might be interested in this." He smiled as Eddie's eyes skimmed over the cover. "It's what I've been reading every day. Writing in the margins and such." 

Eddie sniffled a little, then smiled wide, meeting Richie's gaze. "Thank you. _Thank_ you." 

Richie opened his mouth to reply, but then Eddie all but shut off his airways, shifting up on his knees and enveloping Richie in a tight hug, his chin settling in the crook of Richie's neck. Richie hesitated, a little stunned, before bringing his hands up to reciprocate the embrace. One hand went to Eddie's hair, the other to his back, holding him soft and close. It was quiet around them, though Richie swore he could hear his own heartbeat. _He was holding Kaspbrak_. It cycled through his head like a broken record. 

_Holding Kaspbrak, holding Kaspbrak, holding Kaspbrak._

He'd never wanted to know the window boy's name more in his life, and it seemed like all he could ever want or need. He _had_ to have that word in his mouth (among other things). 

He would find out that boy's name. He swore it. 

After a while, it seemed like Eddie would never pull out of the hug, but then Richie poked him in the side and he wriggled away, giggling. Eddie tried to scramble back over the wood, but Richie caught up with him easily; they ended up with Richie on top, hips fitting nicely between Eddie's legs, fingers jabbing at his sides, making him laugh even harder. Richie showed mercy and placed his hands on the dock to prop his body up, pressing kiss after dizzying kiss to Eddie's lips until his own were numb except for a faint tingling. 

That was how they spent the rest of the half-hour they had, Eddie laying down on the dock, Richie hovering over him (or rather, pressed into him), kissing. And just kissing- Richie didn't want to spoil the moment, wanted to keep it simple and innocent (it wasn't easy, not with Kaspbrak's legs wrapped around him like this, lying so willingly under him- _Jesus_ \- but he managed). 

"Gonna miss you." Eddie whispered when Richie announced that they'd have to head back to the city soon. 

"Don't think about that, lovely. You'll get stuck in it." Richie shook his head, feeling Eddie's warm fingers on his equally warm cheeks. "I'll be back. I promise." 

Eddie didn't reply to that. He didn't want to dampen the mood by pointing out that that was something Richie couldn't promise for sure. Instead, he tilted his head a little, looking past Richie's shoulder, and smiled. "The sun." He said, and unwrapped his legs from Richie's torso. 

Richie glanced behind him to see the sun rising in a beautiful effusion of color, all pinks and purples and oranges. He grinned, then shifted so that he was sitting beside Eddie, lanky legs stretched out on the dock in front of him, hands propped up behind him. Eddie sat up and pulled his knees to his chest, resting his chin between them, arms banded around his shins. 

They both watched the sunrise, sneaking occasional glances at one another, but never meeting the other's eyes. There was a strange tension in the air. Eddie felt like a child standing by an adult who was discussing some grown-up thing. He wasn't supposed to look, and it would be awkward if he was caught; but he _wanted_ to look oh, so badly. 

When the sun had passed the horizon, Richie said, "Let's head out, Kaspbrak." 

Eddie looked over at him then, and his _eyes_. They were the eyes of a lost child. They were the eyes of someone staring death in the face. They were hurt, and scared, and lost, and almost melancholy. It shook Richie to his core to see Eddie like that. But then Eddie swallowed audibly, and his eyes went back to the dull sadness that had become their resting place, where they always settled. Their home. 

"Okay." Eddie said. The shift in his eyes had taken place in the space of two seconds, max. Yet it seemed like an eternity had passed from the time he'd looked at Richie to the time he'd spoken. 

So they did head out. They walked for thirty minutes, holding hands until they got to the city, which was awake now _(keep your head down, stay hidden)_. They spoke only a little on the way. 

Eddie suddenly felt very tired, as if he hadn't slept in days. It took so much effort to move, and it felt like he was walking in quicksand. _Sinking, sinking_. He supposed it was dumb. He'd been staring at Richie for weeks, sure, but he'd only been talking to him for a few days. And love at first sight was just a silly fairytale. He really shouldn't be so attached, it wasn't healthy, but Eddie felt as though Richie were a part of him. A part he would be losing in three minutes. 

"Rich!" 

It was Bill, motioning for Richie to join him. He was standing in the shipyard. By a ship. And now Eddie felt a little sick. He tore his eyes away from the boat. Bill's voice seemed so distant, too. Things seemed to happen in flashes, like photographs. 

Two minutes. 

_Flash_. Now he and Richie were standing by Bill. The rest of the group was there, helping load bags onto the ship. They were all smiling and laughing and chatting away. Eddie felt like he belonged to a different planet. 

One minute. 

_Flash_. Richie was saying goodbye to his friends. So was Bill. Eddie was almost frightened when Bill spoke to him, pulled out of his head all too suddenly. 

"You alright?" Bill asked him. Eddie nodded slowly, but his face told a different story. Bill gave him a tight hug. "We're both going to be back in no time. You won't even notice we're gone." He said quietly as Eddie brought his arms up to reciprocate the hug. 

_Flash_. Bill was suddenly yanked away by the back of his shirt, and both he and Eddie were alarmed (especially by the sheer, brute _force_ with which Bill was pulled away), but then they realized it was Richie who'd tugged them apart. _Flash_. Richie quickly replaced Bill's body with his own, enveloping Eddie in the tightest and warmest hug the latter had ever received. 

It was different from the dock, because they were standing up, and Eddie could clearly sense their size difference now. It was like Richie was swallowing him whole. It was glorious. 

Eddie hugged him back. And then panic flared up in his chest. It was all suddenly real- Richie was really leaving, right now. 

"Richie." Eddie said, voice bordering on urgent; the first word he'd spoken since they'd reached the city. "My name." 

"Your name?" Richie asked, and for a second he genuinely didn't know what Kaspbrak was talking about, mind too blocked up with emotion. 

"My name." Eddie repeated. It was now or (possibly) never. "It's-"

Richie pulled out of the hug sharply, making a strange sort of " _aaeehh!_ " noise and clamping his hand over Eddie's mouth. He let that hand fall, looking into Eddie's confused eyes. 

"Tell me when I get back." Richie said, and Eddie's stomach dropped. 

"But- but you-" Eddie sputtered helplessly, feeling his throat tighten with the threat of tears. _If_ , he thought blindly. _If you get back_. 

"When I get back." Richie smiled, wide and dazzling. Not even crooked like usual. A _full_ smile; and Eddie couldn't put his finger on what it was, but Richie reminded him of a biblical angel. "I'll see you then." 

Eddie paused. Richie didn't want him to say goodbye. He knew that. "See you later" or "Until then" was gentler. 

Zero minutes. 

"I'll see you then." Eddie echoed Richie's words, his voice full and confident, just as Richie's smile had been. It was first time in his memory that he'd spoken like that. He didn't _feel_ full and confident, but his heart did, in a strange way. 

Richie saluted, and then he was walking away, following Bill. He boarded the ship. Eddie watched until it disappeared over the horizon; most people did. 

"My name's Eddie." He whispered to Richie, though the ship was out of sight now. 

~~~~~

Richie's notes in the margins kept Eddie afloat over the next month. He must've read that book four times. Some of his favorite notes included: 

_"They're talking about fucking here. You know about fucking, don't you?"_  
_"Soft and sweet, just like you."_  
_"Those ancient Greeks... no wonder olive oil was so popular, am I right?"_  
_"Fucking romantics. Shit, I guess I'm included in that now. Horrific!"_  
_"Unrelated, but I hope you aren't missing me too much right now. I want a smile on that pretty face!"_

The book always did put a smile on Eddie's face. It was a genuinely interesting book, and Richie's comments never failed to make him blush or giggle (even if he didn't understand the joke, like the ancient Greeks one; the way Richie phrased things was funny in itself). 

Richie hadn't told Eddie the day he'd be back. He just knew it would be one month. So Eddie began counting down, starting day one; Richie should definitely be back by day thirty-five, so that's what Eddie aimed for. Hopefully he'd be back on day thirty or thirty-one. 

_But he might not come back at all_ , Eddie's mind would often whisper. 

Richie's friends helped Eddie get through it, too. They were good friends, and everyone bonded a great deal that month. Eddie began helping Stan run The Losers Club, and Stan would always tell him funny stories about Richie (he'd known him for years). 

And Richie did come back. He returned on day thirty-two. No one knew, but Bill was too excited to keep it under wraps, immediately heading to the library to greet Mike, so everyone would find out any minute now. 

Richie walked into the bank. 

Kaspbrak's father was standing there again. He looked up as Richie entered, his face going back to the same suspicious expression it held when he'd first seen Richie. 

"Where is he?" Richie asked without skipping a beat. His mind was whirling with excitement. 

"Down at the dock with that Marsh girl, I believe." Kaspbrak's father answered. He gave Richie a look. "Don't you go getting him into trouble." 

"No, sir!" Richie chirped happily, then raced out. He felt like a child on Christmas, all giddy and jittery. He ran all the way to the dock, ignoring the strange looks he was getting. 

And there he was, legs hanging over the edge of the dock, sitting beside Beverly. Beverly was smoking, but Eddie wasn't, instead rambling on and on about something with a huge grin on his face. Beverly was nodding along. Richie noticed that Eddie was holding the _Homosexual Life_ book in his hands, flipped open to a page he was pointing at. Richie caught a snippet of the conversation. 

"...the hell does that mean? I've got no clue, Bev. Maybe he can explain it when he's back..." 

And then Beverly, who was facing a little sideways, saw a figure at the end of the dock in her peripheral. She looked over at Richie, expression dropping into a look of total shock, then wild excitement. 

"...any day now, it's day thirty-two, right? Bev, right?" Eddie looked over at her, having been watching the water in front of him. He followed her gaze, and his face did the exact same thing that Beverly's had. "Richie." He breathed. Richie waved. Eddie scrambled to his feet, shouting it this time- " _Richie!_ " 

"Hey, Kasp- _woah_." Richie almost fell over as Eddie skidded to a stop by throwing his arms around Richie, his momentum making Richie stumble back. 

"I missed you." Eddie said into Richie's shoulder, squeezing him with all his strength. Richie hugged him back, laughing a little. 

"Well, don't shit yourself over it." Richie replied, and Eddie laughed, releasing him and looking up into his eyes. 

"Sorry." Eddie said, eyes sparkling, smile wide and unrestrained. He stepped away to allow Beverly a hug, walking down to retrieve the book he'd left at the end of the dock. He walked back over to Richie and Beverly, who had separated. 

"You know, I missed you, too." Richie smiled. Relief was coursing through his veins. He was home. Relief was coursing through Eddie's veins, too, for the exact same reason. 

It was around five in the afternoon when they reunited. The whole group met up at The Losers Club- which was closed and empty- laughing and joking and discussing. And kissing. A lot of kissing, between Richie and Eddie. Well, until Stan scolded them over it and told them to quit ("I'm sure you'll have plenty of _that_ going on later tonight, Tozier").

Stan wasn't wrong; as soon as the group dispersed, Richie and Eddie headed out towards the same lake they'd gone to the day Richie had left. And they kissed some there, but there was too much to be said, so they stopped. 

"What all happened over there? What kinds of things did you do?" Eddie asked. 

"I was on one base the whole time. I actually didn't do a lot. If something broke down, I'd help fix it. Or I'd help improve things." Richie shrugged. They were sitting at the end of the dock. It was around eight at night, and they were illuminated by gentle, pale moonlight, which shone beautifully over the calm, lapping waves of the water. 

They talked a little about what had happened in each other's lives over the past month, and once they felt caught up, Eddie stood. 

"Think we can go swimming?" He suggested. Richie saw a glint in his eye; it was something that Eddie didn't have often, but Richie recognized it as almost diablerie, and he recognized that Eddie had looked at him like that before. Usually before a playful kiss or something of the sort, something forbidden. It was enticing. 

"You'd drown in that water." Richie said, but he tossed his cap on the dock beside him in preparation anyway, looking up at the window boy. "You're tiny and you've got a thousand layers on." 

"Should I take some of them off?" Eddie asked. There weren't any hints of mischief in his voice or face, but his eyes glinted in that same way. It was a little confusing, sending mixed signals, and Richie decided to just play along. Be cool. 

His Trashmouth had other plans, though. 

"You should take all of them off." Richie blurted before he could control his tongue. Eddie's lips twisted into an almost wry little smirk. 

"Naughty." He said, but he began unbuttoning his vest. 

The vest went first, then the tie, and then the suspenders were undone. Eddie folded each neatly and laid them down on the dock. The drawn-out process filled Richie with a strange kind of anticipation and awe. People always wore so many layers. He didn't, but he relished in seeing someone else's stripped away. He sat and gazed at Eddie, not bothering to conceal the emotions displayed on his face, and Eddie didn't seem to mind. 

"Aren't you going to join me?" Eddie said finally, as he began to unbutton his shirt. 

Richie nodded quickly, standing up and tugging his own shirt off over his head. Eddie's movements slowed as he raked his eyes over the newly exposed skin. "Slowpoke." Richie teased, though a little bit of pride was blooming in his chest. 

Eddie smiled and directed his gaze back to himself, moving his hands swiftly now. Richie took his time removing his boots, socks, and pants; he wanted to maintain an equal level of undress between them, and even with his deft fingers, Eddie had more to take off and took more time to do it. 

Shoes, socks, undershirt, and finally pants. Bit by bit, Eddie revealed himself to Richie. Richie felt like he was standing before God. Eddie left his underwear on, and so did Richie (with a tiny bit of disappointment creeping into his body). 

"Reckon your daddy would be very happy about this?" Richie grinned. Eddie laughed, clasping his hands behind his back at the mention of his father. 

"It's not very proper." Eddie smiled, too, but it was a different kind of smile; almost coy in a way. 

"Exactly." Richie said. 

_Exactly_ , Eddie thought to himself. _That's the point of all of this, isn't it?_

"Come here." Eddie said, and motioned for Richie to come closer. Richie did, standing in front of Eddie at the end of the dock, back facing the water, face a little flushed. 

Eddie reached out and brushed Richie's hair out of his face. Richie's face flushed even more, turning a deep red color as he stared into Eddie's calm, brown eyes. All... that... beautiful... swirling... _brown_. 

"I bet I look like a fool right now." Richie laughed quietly. 

Eddie held both of Richie's hands in both of his own, bringing them up by his chest. Richie's breath hitched a little. He promptly left earth, left reality. Eddie could see by the light of the moon how entranced Richie was. He exhaled out of his nose a little at the sight. Richie was _gone_ , absorbed in the feeling of Eddie so bare and close. 

"You don't look like a fool." Eddie spoke softly, bringing his face up close by Richie's, standing on his tiptoes to do so. Richie exhaled. "But you kind of are one." Eddie finished in a whisper, almost seductive, definitely playful. Like there was a joke hiding behind it. 

Richie laughed a little, bringing him about halfway back to reality. "Why?" 

Eddie released Richie's hands, moving his own up onto Richie's shoulders, and Richie was gone again. Eddie grinned, raising his eyebrows. "You let your dick do the talking. Shouldn't have trusted me, Tozier." 

"Wh-" Richie began- he was back on earth now, thanks to the jarring shock that hearing Eddie say the word "dick" was- and then Eddie shoved him off the dock, sending him falling back into the cold water with a small yell and pinwheeling arms. 

Eddie laughed gleefully as Richie emerged from the black water, spluttering, a death-grip on his glasses. Richie swam to the dock, hand shooting out and grabbing Eddie's ankle, making the latter yelp. 

"Richie, I'll fall!" Eddie gasped as Richie tugged on his ankle. He kicked the hand off. "I'll come in, I promise!" He giggled a little, then sat down at the end of the dock, preparing to lower himself into the lake. 

But Richie had other plans. Eddie squeaked as Richie gripped Eddie's hips firmly with his cold, wet hands, lifting him up fully off of the dock for a second before plunging him into the water, releasing him once he was fully submerged. Eddie swam back up to the surface, gasping and pushing his hair back like Richie had. Richie laughed a little, and Eddie splashed him playfully. 

"Look at your hair!" Eddie laughed. Richie's curly hair was messy, and a lot less curly than usual, weighted down by the water. Richie grinned. 

"Says you." Richie gestured towards Eddie's slicked-back hair. 

The water was shallow here, and Richie could stand comfortably on his tiptoes, allowing his arms to float freely beside him. Eddie wasn't as fortunate, having to constantly tread water. 

"I'm too short." Eddie complained, a little out of breath, and Richie laughed lightly. 

"I'll hold you." He said. Eddie nodded. He'd never turn down an offer like that. 

Eddie swam over and slid his arms around Richie's shoulders, crossing his ankles behind Richie's back, knees at the latter's sides. Richie brought his hands down to support Eddie's weight- though he really didn't need to in the water- letting them settle just above Eddie's thighs. 

They were close now, _really_ close; Richie's torso was slotted right between Eddie's legs. It sent fire through both of them, despite the temperature of the water, but neither wanted to talk about it (especially not Eddie). It was just _there_. A low sort of burning. They couldn't trace exactly where it was coming from; maybe their stomachs, though, that seemed right. But it also came from their hearts, and their arms, and their faces, and more. The more they thought about it, the more they could feel it in every part of their body. 

_Desire_ , Eddie put a name to the feeling in his head, not really thinking consciously. _I want Richie_. 

_How_ he wanted Richie, he wasn't really sure. Eddie did, in fact, know about fucking. Sort of. Only the whole "how babies are made" spiel, and a very limited one at that. So what the hell could he do with _Richie?_

This all took place in a few seconds of silence, the only sounds being their breathing and the water around them, and maybe the occasional breeze. 

Richie broke the silence, as always. He shut his eyes tight, scrunched up his nose, and puckered his lips, making a loud kissing sound. He opened his eyes and grinned. Eddie was smiling back at him, cheeks and nose rosy. Maybe from the cold. Maybe from the heat. 

"Ask nicely." Eddie said. 

"Pretty please?" Richie replied, bringing one hand up to the small of Eddie's back under the water, pulling him in closer. 

Eddie leaned in and gave him a long, slow kiss. He was starting to get the hang of kissing now- Richie had given him plenty of practice. They were pressed together in the water, chest to chest. 

"I'm glad you're back." Eddie said once he pulled away. 

The word "back" sparked a memory in Richie's mind. He'd honestly forgotten about it. _When I get back_. "Hey, weren't you going to tell me something? Something, I don't know, important?" 

Eddie hummed thoughtfully, casting his eyes up to the moon. He hadn't forgotten this at all, not for a second. Eddie met Richie's gaze again, smiling. "I think I'll wait." 

Richie jaw dropped of its own accord. He hadn't expected Eddie to say that at all. "That is _so_ not fair!" He said once he'd found his voice, almost bordering on real anger. But not quite. 

"You waited for over a month. You can hold on a little longer." Eddie rolled his eyes. 

Was he being cruel? Maybe. But he took some _delight_ in torturing Richie like this, seeing him all confused. It was cute. And it gave him _power_. He'd never had power before Richie. And Richie seemed fairly willing to give it to him. 

But now, for Richie, it was starting to feel like less of a game and more of a want. Something Richie wanted that he was being denied. He wasn't spoiled by any means, but Richie almost always got what he wanted, and fast, because he'd find a way to get it himself. It frustrated him greatly that he couldn't get this. 

Richie let go of Eddie and pushed his legs off of him. He swam over to the dock, hoisting himself up to sit at the edge, posture slumped as ever, legs hanging down. Eddie swam to him. 

"Richie." Eddie sighed a little with the word. He grabbed the edge of the dock, on either side of Richie's knees, and pulled himself up so that he could meet Richie's eyes better. He rested his chin in the small dip between Richie's knees. Richie stared at him, unsure of how to respond to how _close_ Eddie was. 

"I want to know." Richie pouted, hating how childish his voice sounded. Eddie laughed lightly. 

"I promise I'll tell you soon." Eddie said. He meant it- Richie had ruined his other plan, but he'd formed a new one. He predicted it would soon be put into action. He hoped. 

Eddie moved one hand to rest on Richie's thigh, eyes tracing the movement. Richie's eyes traced it, too, widening. "I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?" Eddie whispered. Richie thought he might pass out. 

"Take a guess, Kaspbrak." Richie said, again losing control over his tongue. He cursed himself internally. And then he cursed internally when Eddie bit his lip, eyes wandering right over to Richie's groin. Richie felt heat start to pool there, and he felt that same full-body heat- _desire_ , rather- return. _Take a wild fucking guess_. 

Eddie's fingers climbed a little higher on Richie's thigh. "Can I touch?" He asked in a voice so quiet that if Richie hadn't seen his lips moving, he might have thought it had been a hallucination. He still wasn't entirely sure it was real. 

The water lapped gently at Eddie's sides. The moon illuminated his features, turning his lips a dusty watermelon with its cool, blue-white light, making his freckles stand out on his skin. Richie was truly awestruck by him (when wasn't he?), and he felt goosebumps rising at the back of his neck and along his arms. 

Richie nodded. He paused, and Eddie did nothing. He nodded again, exaggerated it this time, and put his hand on top of Eddie's. Eddie looked up at him. He moved his hand up, carrying Richie's with it, and placed it between Richie's legs; not moving it, just resting there, just cupping. Richie felt an almost imperceptible tremor travel through his entire body. A low hum worked its way up out of his throat. Eddie smiled a little. 

"Move." Richie said, and the smile disappeared. 

"I don't know how." Eddie looked at him with anxious eyes. _Was he supposed to know?_

"It doesn't matter how." Richie shook his head. He just needed _friction_ , any friction. "Just move it." 

Eddie shifted nervously, his muscles growing sore from holding himself up (he didn't weigh much, but he didn't have much physical strength, either). Eddie moved his hand carefully and slowly, along what he assumed to be the length of Richie's cock. The outline was pretty clear- Richie's briefs clung to his skin, soaked from the lake, leaving very little to the imagination. He tilted his head back as Eddie moved, and then he full-on fucking moaned. He _moaned_. 

Eddie decided that the sound that had just slipped through Richie's lips was his favorite sound in the world. It was both exciting and strangely beautiful, and Eddie wanted to hear it again. His eyes darted all over Richie's body, unsure of where to focus on- his chest rising and falling with significantly heavier breaths, his now-spread legs, his flushed face, his strong arms... too many choices, all of them equally stunning. Richie really was a handsome man- well-built, with a certain delicate prettiness hidden behind. That prettiness was out now, for Eddie; it was in his parted lips, his milky thighs, his still-dripping hair, his gentle eyelashes. 

Eddie moved his hand back in the other direction, and Richie used the hand on top of Eddie's to push him closer, eliminating the delicate touch Eddie had been using in favor of something rougher. Richie rolled his hips a little, exhaling audibly. Eddie felt Richie's hardening cock twitch against his hand. 

_Fuck._

"Does it really feel good?" Eddie asked, voice still quiet. 

" _Mmhmm_." Richie hummed, low in his throat. He opened his eyes and released Eddie's hand. Eddie put that hand back onto the wood of the dock. "You ever touched yourself like that, Kaspbrak?" 

Eddie flushed (even more). "Not really." He said, honestly. Again, he felt that anxiety gnawing at him- _was he supposed to have?_

And then Richie opened his mouth and made things better rather than worse for once. "Want me to show you?" Richie asked, and his voice was husky and deeper than Eddie had ever heard it, and Eddie felt two things simultaneously- a strange pull in the pit of his stomach, and a vibrating, electric shiver running through his body. When Eddie didn't say anything, Richie spoke again. "It'll feel _really_ nice." 

Eddie nodded. Making sure Richie got the message, he spoke. "Yes. Please." 

"You'll have to come up here, then." Richie gave his crooked smile, and Eddie remembered he was still half-submerged in cold water. He smiled back a little, pushing his arms up until his lower torso was in line with the edge of the dock. 

"Let me help you." Richie offered. 

Before Eddie could even say anything, Richie's hands were on him, holding his waist tightly. Richie pulled Eddie up like he weighed _nothing_ (it was no challenging feat- Eddie weighed less than many of the boxes Richie was used to carrying), and Eddie let him (not that he really had a choice). His legs were the first thing to settle on the dock, folded on either side of Richie's body, and then he sat down on Richie's thighs, and Richie let go of him. Eddie felt the cold air in the places where Richie's fingers had burned into his golden skin, and he shivered. 

Eddie became aware of waves of feelings washing over him: desire, affection, a twinge of nervousness, but mostly something he couldn't quite place- it was arousal, but Eddie didn't know that- a deep, warm pulsing within him that just wouldn't let up, that got worse every time he glanced into Richie's eyes behind his thick glasses. Or better, depending on how you looked at it. 

And Eddie felt something hard poking into him. That was what really did it, because he knew what that was and what it meant. And he knew that it was of his doing. That feeling of exhilarating power returned to him, even though he wasn't in control of the situation; and Eddie suddenly realized he could _be powerful_ without controlling and nitpicking everything around him. 

Eddie moved his hands up to Richie's shoulders, and Richie smiled dreamily at him with half-lidded eyes that said _kiss me_. So Eddie did kiss him, leaning forward to connect their lips. Richie placed his hands on Eddie's hips. Then, completely on instinct and of their own accord, Eddie's hips rocked forward into Richie's. A sort of whine left Eddie's throat, instantly getting lost in the kiss. But Richie heard it, and Eddie felt him smile wider against his lips. 

_Holy shit_ , Eddie thought blindly. _What was that?_ It wasn't really a coherent thought- more of an urge than anything- but Eddie suddenly wanted _so badly_ to make that feeling happen again, that spark he'd just felt for the very first time. 

Eddie had never orgasmed while he was conscious. Wet dreams? Definitely, though they were only occasional. This was all new, and it was making his mind short-circuit with that new kind of pleasure. 

Eddie moved his hips again, with no real idea of what he was doing. That spark reappeared, stronger, and this time Eddie's mouth slipped off of Richie's entirely as he let out a small moan, eyes fluttering shut. Richie let out a little huff of an exhale as he did this, which told Eddie that the friction was reaching him, too. 

"Feels nice, doesn't it?" Richie murmured, resting his forehead on Eddie's for a second before moving his face down and attaching his lips to the side of Eddie's neck, kissing and nipping at the area. Eddie gasped. 

"Uh-huh." He answered, his voice at least a full octave higher than usual. 

So Eddie kept moving his hips, and Richie was quick to meet him, rolling his own up to meet Eddie's. Richie's hands went to grip Eddie's hips, to guide him. But Eddie was really doing most of the work here, setting the pace and keeping it steady. Waves upon waves of pleasure hit him relentlessly. He hadn't known this feeling was possible, hadn't known it existed. 

Eddie moved back a little to look at Richie's face, on some primal instinct to see him. It was a beautiful sight. Even though Richie's glasses were covered with water droplets, some running down the lenses, Eddie could still see how glossy his eyes had gotten, how dark his irises had gotten. A high flush rested on his cheekbones. His lips were parted, and the sounds that came out of them- _Jesus_. Richie had started out with moans, then they became more of a breathy groan, and then soft grunts that were equally as hot to Eddie. And it was _good_. 

Ben, being a poet for a living, would've probably put it better, but Eddie could only describe this as _good_. It was one of the only coherent thoughts passing through his head- _good. This feels so good_. It was the only way he knew how to put it. _Fucking good_. This made Eddie feel so good. Richie made Eddie feel so good. 

"Look at you." Richie breathed, voice a little strained. One of his hands left Eddie's hip and traveled up to the back of his head, tightening on Eddie's hair, eliciting a sharp gasp from the window boy (Eddie had _liked_ that). "You're doing it all by yourself, huh?" 

Eddie realized he _was_ , and for some reason the thought was so fucking hot to him. It was almost embarrassing, but he didn't know why, and he didn't care to think about it now. Richie's words had brought him back to reality a little bit, and Eddie remembered something. 

"Richie." He gasped out, then interrupted himself with a bit of a strangled moan as he ground into Richie once more. He caught his breath. "My name's Eddie." 

Richie's movements slowed for a second in his surprise. _Why now?_ Richie had thought maybe after this, Eddie would tell him, but _during?_

"You haven't- but- y- I haven't even- even finished you off yet." Richie stammered, his brain struggling to keep up because Eddie hadn't stopped moving _at all_. 

Eddie just squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head and buried it in Richie's shoulder. The rough, fast, rocking motion of his hips never ceased. He was so gone. So far gone. It felt like Eddie physically could not stop what he was doing, like it wasn't possible. If Richie had been able to see his face, the spit-slicked lips, the flaming cheeks, the fucked-out eyes, he might have fainted with the beauty of it all. 

So Richie tilted his head to kiss at Eddie's jaw, pulling at his hair, which brought forth a moan of an almost helpless quality, involuntary and primal. It made Richie moan, too, but he moaned out a _word_ , his voice desperate and breathy. 

"Eddie." 

And _that_ was why Eddie had told him now. 

Hearing his name from Richie's mouth was the best thing ever, in that moment. His mind officially stopped processing, going completely and totally, _blissfully_ blank. Eddie fucking loved his name now. He _loved_ it. He could listen to Richie saying it for hours on end. 

A strange sort of keen escaped his lips, almost a cry, dissipating in the cold air around their heated bodies. Eddie moved his hips faster. He was so close- close to what exactly, he didn't know, but he could feel that there was something building, coiling up like a spring in his stomach, nearly ready to be released. 

" _Fuck_ , Eddie." 

This time, Richie's voice was much deeper, and it was as if Eddie could feel the words thundering along with his heart in his chest. The hand in his hair disappeared, then reappeared on his hip. The next time Eddie thrust forward, Richie pushed him down. Eddie saw _stars_ , eyes flying open wide, lips parting even more as a sob of a moan bubbled up out of his throat. 

_That_ was the friction he'd been searching for. Eddie let up and allowed Richie to guide him, slow but _hard_. Eddie wanted so badly to go fast, but this felt _torturously_ good, _deliciously_ good, and he surrendered himself over completely to Richie's firm grasp. 

"Richie." Eddie whimpered. He was so fucking close. He was _there_. He could see the edge, could see himself stepping off, but they were moving too slow. Eddie couldn't put it into words. His mind couldn't reach that far now. So he just said, " _More_." 

Richie was right there with him, eyes shut tight. Without even realizing it, he slipped into French (he'd grown up with many of the people he'd lived with speaking it, and he was verbally fluent), murmuring softly, "Je t'ai, mon papillon." 

Eddie didn't even question it. He was too far from reality. But the softness of the words and the allure of the French language evoked a breathy moan from him. He didn't have _time_ to think about it, either, because Richie's hand was leaving his hip and slipping beneath the waistband of his briefs. 

And _touching_ him. 

Not this clothed grinding they'd been doing, not anymore- Richie wrapped his hand around Eddie's cock and stroked. Skin-to skin. Fast. 

One time, two times, three times, four times, and Eddie came _hard_. 

It was simultaneously everything and nothing. He felt himself dissolve out of reality, an incredible lightness settling on his mind like fog, leaving his body entirely, sinking into it; but he was also still in his body, every muscle tensed at once, feeling every tiny sensation a million times more as his orgasm rocked his whole world. 

He could feel a soft breeze on the back of his neck. He could feel Richie's fingers on his hip. He could feel little droplets of water rolling down his back. He could feel moonlight pressing into his eyelids. He could feel his fingers twitching and tightening on Richie's shoulders. He could feel Richie's hair brushing against his own shoulder as Eddie moved his face into the crook of Richie's neck. 

Eddie gasped and mewled and moaned, desperate and involuntary. Richie worked him through it with gentle touches and soft whispers, half of which were in French ("Si beau, mon beau garçon, doing so well, Eddie, laisser partir"). Eddie was trembling when he came down from it, parted lips giving way to heavy breaths. He relaxed completely into Richie's frame, sighing deeply, eyes shut against Richie's warm skin. Richie took his hand away. 

Richie's hips stuttered forward, on accident, and Eddie remembered that this was not a one-man show- mostly brought back to reality by the sparking overstimulation Richie's motion had caused. 

Eddie sat up and slid back on Richie's legs- making sure he didn't fall off of the dock- looking at Richie's face. Richie looked back at him, and Eddie could see a sharp contrast between Richie and himself- he'd never felt more relaxed, while Richie had never looked more wound-up. 

"Do you want me to-?" Eddie began, but Richie was already grabbing his wrist with his clean hand, guiding Eddie's hand into his underwear. 

Eddie let out the smallest gasp as he touched Richie, fingers twitching a little in surprise, eyes flickering down to where his hand now was, then back up to meet Richie's gaze. 

"Put- hold- like I did." The words tumbled out of Richie's mouth, and Eddie's brain finally caught up. 

He wrapped his hand loosely around Richie's cock, and Richie exhaled, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Then, Richie- who was still holding Eddie's wrist- guided Eddie's hand up and down, at a medium pace. 

"You can do it tighter, you're not going to break my dick off." Richie said, tilting his head back and groaning lowly when Eddie tightened his hold. Richie drew his hand away, putting it back on Eddie's hip. He opened his eyes and looked into Eddie's and said, "Fucking _faster_." 

Excitement sparked in Eddie's chest, and he continued that up-and-down motion Richie had showed him, picking up the pace. Richie moaned, letting his head fall forward again, and Eddie thanked god that he was doing this right, that he was making Richie feel good. A continuous stream of "Eddie"s and curses slipped through Richie's parted lips. 

Eddie felt that power again. Oh, man, he could do anything to Richie now. _Anything_. And Richie was just allowing himself to be under Eddie's thumb. Allowing himself to trust Eddie. 

_Maybe that's why people do this_ , Eddie thought. _Didn't I just do the same thing?_

Eddie kept pumping him, and it didn't take long for Richie to come. He threw his head back and let his mouth fall open and closed his eyes and tightened his death-grip on Eddie's hip (which would surely bruise), suddenly going very silent and very still. 

Eddie couldn't help thinking about how beautiful he looked like this, neck and jawline on full display. On a small burst of confidence, Eddie leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Richie's neck, and Richie gave a huff of an exhale. 

Eddie slowed his pace a little as he felt a warm, sticky substance spilling out onto his hand. A small, strangled "ah" of a moan slipped through Richie's lips, and then he cursed, letting his head fall back down, chest rising and falling dramatically with every breath. 

Richie glanced up at Eddie's flushed face and smiled, a small chuckle bubbling up from his throat. He laughed again, a little louder, and Eddie smiled at him, giggling the tiniest bit (Richie's laughter was always so _contagious_ ). Richie laid back on the dock, head falling right beside Eddie's neat pile of clothes, and Eddie's hands slid down to his chest. 

They stayed like that for a while, catching their breaths, until Eddie grew uncomfortable with the now-cold stickiness in his briefs and suggested that they wash off. They both got back in the lake, chatting quietly about how Richie apparently spoke French (and about how Eddie apparently _really_ liked it). 

They cleaned themselves (Eddie complained about getting clean in dirty water), and ended up in each other's arms, the same way they had been before Richie had climbed up on the dock, except closer- Eddie rested his head on Richie's collarbone, and Richie rested his head on top of Eddie's. The black water glimmered around them in the moonlight. The trees were a comforting border between them and the real world, silhouetted against the clear sky. 

"This might be a really bad time," Richie spoke after a few moments of silence had gone by. "But I think I love you." 

"I love you, too." Eddie replied without any hesitation at all. 

"Je t'aime." Richie said softly. Eddie smiled and repeated the words in a whisper. 

Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak embraced in a lake underneath the moon and the stars and confessed their love, and in that moment, everything was right. 

Eddie felt warm. There was a low sort of fire burning in his chest, filling him up with a comforting heat. He wondered if Richie felt the same way (he did). Eddie knew it was because of Richie that he felt like this, after all. 

Richie lit him up everywhere.  
He always had, and he always would.


End file.
